


Amuse Me

by themerrygentleman



Series: Three's Company [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Multi, Pure Unadulterated Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:27:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6048129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themerrygentleman/pseuds/themerrygentleman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joly returns home exhausted after an incredibly difficult med school exam, and his significant others conspire to take his mind off of things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amuse Me

The  _thunk-click_ of the apartment’s front door slamming shut is nearly drowned out by another sound: a deep, weary sigh that seems to go on forever. Over in the living room, Bossuet and Musichetta snap to attention as one: this is the signal they’ve been waiting for. 

Rushing to the door, they both tackle Joly at once, offering welcoming hugs and kisses. He reciprocates readily enough, but after dating him for as long as they have, Bossuet and Musichetta know their boyfriend well enough to recognize that he’s running on a sort of distracted autopilot. Up close, Musichetta can see the warning signs: Joly’s hair is sticking up at odd angles where he’s been running his hands through it in frustration, and the depth of the dark circles under his eyes speaks volumes.

Joly shrugs off his coat, staggers into the living room, and collapses onto the sofa in a way that calls to mind a tree being felled more than anything else. He remains completely immobile for a long moment, then lets out another emphatic sigh.

“Hey, you survived!” Bossuet points out brightly, ever the pragmatist. 

Joly just groans. “ _Maybe._ I won’t know for sure until around next week Wednesday. You may be looking at a dead man walking here.” He glances down at his own limbs splayed randomly across the couch cushions, and amends, “Okay, dead man sprawling.”

Bossuet snorts, rolling his eyes. “Come on, I’ve heard this song-and-dance too many times before to fall for it now. You kicked that exam’s ass, I know you did. Accurately described its ass, in painstaking detail, and  _then_ kicked it.” 

“We’ve  _seen_ you cramming for this thing for the past two weeks,” Musichetta points out. “You did awesome, I’m sure of it.”

“You’re going to be the best doctor, okay?” Bossuet adds. “You’re surviving med school; you can do anything.”

Joly favors them with a sincere smile, albeit a weary one. “Thanks, guys. Well, right now, all I know is I want to completely blank my brain out and not think about any academics for a while.” 

“God knows that’s fair.” Musichetta reaches out and ruffles his hair, although it’s already messy enough that she barely makes a visible difference. “You’ve crammed an entire textbook into that thing. You could use some decompression.” Over the top of Joly’s head, she catches Bossuet’s eye and gives him a subtle nod: it’s time to enact their plan.

Bossuet claps his hands together gleefully; when he speaks, it’s in slightly exaggerated tones, like a radio announcer. “So! You’ve demonstrated some undoubtedly impressive medical knowledge and returned home in triumph to your significant others. How best to enjoy your well-earned leisure time?” 

He snaps his fingers. “Oh, hang on, I know! How about… _more_ science? You know, what they call a busman’s holiday.”

Joly fixes Bossuet with what can only be described as a thousand-yard stare. It’s a dead-eyed look with the ghosts of countless late nights, endless cups of coffee, and unquantifiable amounts of sheer academic dread behind it, and such are its powers that even the perpetually unflappable Bossuet flinches back from it a little. “You had  _better_ be kidding me,” Joly says, each syllable as flat and heavy as an iron weight. 

“Hang on, hang on, let us clarify,” Musichetta says quickly. With a flourish, she produces the stack of DVD’s that she and Bossuet carefully selected earlier that afternoon. “What would you say to an evening of snuggling with your boyfriend and girlfriend, watching terrible, cheesy sci-fi movies, and mocking the hell out of all the inaccuracies?”

“We’ve got everything,” Bossuet elaborates, grinning as he takes the stack from Musichetta and starts going through the titles. “ _Plan 9 from Outer Space._ The inevitable  _Sharknado._ That one episode of  _Star Trek: Voyager_ with the giant microbe that wanted to fuck the ship. That  _other_ episode of  _Star Trek: Voyager_ with the…”

“Enough, I’m sold,” Joly says. The exhausted shell of a man from moments before is nowhere to be found–while he still looks haggard, he’s now sitting up and beaming at both of them, the old familiar sparkle back in his eyes. “You had me at cheesy old sci-fi.”

“We’ve got a bunch of popcorn and drinks in the kitchen, too,” Musichetta says. “Plus there’s leftovers, or we can order pizza a couple of movies in if we want.” 

“ _And_  we made that spinach and artichoke dip,” Bossuet adds in an enticing tone. “You know, Feuilly’s recipe, the really good one. Because dammit, when we three do movie nights, we do them in  _style._ ”

“You two are really and truly the best, you know that, right?” Joly says as the two of them get arranged on the sofa next to him. The look he’s giving them is a little delirious, full of affection, and above all, profoundly grateful.

“Damn right we are,” Bossuet says, at more or less the same time that Musichetta says “Takes one to know one.” They all grin at each other after that, leaning in close to each other, sharing one of those quiet moments of understanding where all kinds of things are said that don’t need words. 

“And once we’re all marathoned out,” Musichetta adds, her grin turning into something slightly wicked, “If you wanted to go back to, you know, _studying anatomy_ …”

“Yeah,” Bossuet says, valiantly fighting a losing battle against a giggling fit. “You know, taking a…a hands-on approach to…”

“Not that that doesn’t sound excellent,” Joly says, shaking his head at them although he’s clearly also trying not to laugh, “but for the love of all humanity, pick a different innuendo, unless you just want me to suffer an exam flashback and just recite vocabulary terms at you all night.”

“That’s fair,” Musichetta says. She throws an arm around him and pulls him in for an emphatic kiss. As far as she’s concerned, this is shaping up to be the perfect evening. “Now, come on, where do you want to start?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for [an ask meme prompt](http://shamrockjolnes.tumblr.com/post/133242574598/for-the-ask-meme-amuse-me-for-jbm-please) over at [my tumblr](http://shamrockjolnes.tumblr.com/), and when I recently unearthed it again I thought it was high time I re-posted it here. There's never enough Joly/Bossuet/Musichetta fic, if you ask me, and I always enjoy writing about the three of them being adorable together!
> 
> Also, I couldn't resist throwing in a reference to one of the many times Star Trek Voyager took a bizarre and horrifying concept and just jumped off the deep end with it (the episode Bossuet refers to is called "Elogium," and features a Vulcan saying, in complete seriousness, "We have lost our sex appeal, Captain"). I can only assume that Joly, med student and huge nerd, would react to that episode with even more bewildered fascination than I did.
> 
> (By the way, this is the second fic I've written in which the main character(s) offer the person they love most a night of delicious junk food and cheesy science fiction as a show of love and support, the other being my Agents of SHIELD fic "One Step at a Time." What can I say, I know what I like in life.)


End file.
